A Man in a Mask - The Sherlock Version
by WillSherJohnKhan
Summary: Molly meets a masked man...
1. Part One

CAFE - THE PRESENT

Molly Hooper was on cloud nine. She couldn't keep the enormous grin off her face. And she desperately needed to talk to someone about it, or she would very likely burst.

She was on her way to her favourite café to catch up with Mary Watson.

"Goodness, if that smile gets any brighter I may need to buy some sunscreen," Mary laughed as Molly sat down opposite her.

If possible Molly's grin got even wider.

"So, spill." Mary demanded.

"Where to begin…" Molly began coyly.

"The beginning would be a good starting point," Mary stated as she leaned forward expectantly.

Molly giggled.

"I've never been to a masque ball before," she started. "I was initially quite nervous. But then I thought, everybody here is wearing clothes they wouldn't usually in their everyday lives, and we're all wearing masks. So why not just enjoy pretending to be someone else for a few hours."

Mary nodded encouragingly.

"I'd bought this lovely little yellow dress with a full skirt, with a delicate yellow mask to match," Molly explained. "You know how bad I am at small talk, especially when I'm in a room with people I don't know?"

Mary nodded.

"Well something happened. And I think it was the mask. But I had no trouble at all talking to men at the party."

Molly paused, and a dreamy expression came over her face.

Mary had to nudge her sharply to get her to continue.

"I was talking to this guy when I became aware that I was being observed. I looked around, and then I saw him. He was dressed in black from head to foot. He looked like…"

"Zorro," Mary said.

"How did you know that?"

Mary looked a little uncomfortable. She wriggled in her seat and refused to make eye contact.

Molly's eyes widened with shock. Her expression went from excited to stricken.

"That was Sherlock."

Mary nodded. "He was on a case."

"Oh! My! God!" Molly cried. Her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she remembered what she and the masked man had got up to.

"But it can't have been Sherlock," she tried desperately. "Zorro had straight hair and black eyes."

"Hair gel and contacts," Mary responded.

Molly scrambled to her feet. She grabbed her bag, left enough money on the table for her untouched cappuccino and then headed for the door.

"Molly," Mary called out.

Molly turned. "I… I have to go," she said. "I'll call you later."

After Molly had left Mary got out her mobile and sent a text.

MOLLY'S FLAT

When Molly reached the sanctuary of her flat she let out a sigh of relief.

But that relief was short-lived when she realised she was not alone.

He stepped out of the shadows and took a cautious step towards her. Dressed as he had been the night before, but with two exceptions. The hair under his hat was curly, while his eyes were his unique blue-green.

A mixture of humiliation and rage built up inside Molly, and before she could give herself time to think about it, she stormed over to the consulting detective and began striking him any way she could.

"How could you?" she cried. "You knew it was me didn't you? No, don't bother denying it," she said as Sherlock went to reply.

"Why did you do it?" she demanded. "You knew how I've felt for you all of these years. Did you decide to take pity on me? Give the pathetic little pathologist what she's always dreamed of."

Then a sudden thought struck her. "That's why you never said a word, isn't it? In case I recognised your voice."

Molly's rage ended as quickly as it had begun. All her energy spent, she burst into tears and without realising it, she rested her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Why Sherlock?" she said, no louder than a whisper. "Why did you do it? Was it to humiliate me?"

Sherlock rested his head against her own as he returned her embrace.

"No Molly, never that. The case was all wrapped up and I was about to head back to Baker St when I spotted my pathologist across the room."

Molly raised her head to look at him enquiringly. "Your pathologist?"

"Obviously," Sherlock haughtily responded, as if there was any other conclusion to be made.

"I have come to realise of late that the feelings I have for you amount to more than just a platonic friendship," he explained. "It occurred to me that the masque ball would be the perfect opportunity to test a theory."

"So, it was an experiment then?" Molly queried.

"Not… exactly, no," Sherlock replied cautiously.

"What was it then?"

Sherlock swallowed nervously. "I've not been in a relationship since I was at Uni, and none of them had ever been serious. This costume offered me anonymity. It made me feel…"

"Brave?"

Sherlock nodded.

"You were certainly that," Molly replied, blushing again at the memory of the passionate kisses they had shared.

Sherlock grinned as he gently grazed his fingers over her heated skin, before cupping her head in his hands. He leaned down and pressed his lips softly to hers. Instantly her lips parted, and gentle kisses soon turned blazing hot. Sherlock gently pulled away.

"I would very much like to continue where we left off last night," he said, his voice lowering to the pitch that always made shivers run up and down her spine. "And perhaps take it a step or two further."

Molly looked up into Sherlock's passion-filled eyes. She reached up and removed his hat, and then his mask.

"But are you as brave now that you can no longer hide behind a mask?" she asked teasingly.

She gave a startled yelp as Sherlock swept her up in his arms and made his way purposefully towards her bedroom.

"You'll have to give me your assessment in the morning," he replied as he deposited her on the bed. He then quickly removed his clothes before assisting Molly with hers.


	2. Part Two

MASQUE BALL - THE NIGHT BEFORE

The case had been wrapped up satisfactorily. 'So, back to Baker St,' Sherlock thought to himself.

He'd had to go undercover to a masque ball, hence the need for the Zorro costume. Once there he had been successful in assisting New Scotland Yard to foil the kidnapping attempt of a young socialite by her unwelcome suitor.

Sherlock was making his way out when a flash of yellow caught his eye.

He stopped and turned back for a second look.

Sure enough, there she stood, even behind the delicate mask, there was no mistaking the familiar figure of Molly Hooper. She was wearing a very short yellow dress that had a neckline that was far too revealing given the current company she was with.

In fact, he would even go so far as to say that she was having a bit too much fun with the man she was flirting with.

Sherlock's hands clenched into fists, ready to do untold damage to the unsuspecting potential suitor, should he dare to lay as much as one finger on His pathologist.

The direction of his thoughts suddenly pulled Sherlock up short.

He'd almost sounded jealous.

'Was he jealous?' he asked himself.

When Molly laughed at something the idiot had said, Sherlock had his answer. Yes, he was most definitely jealous.

But, what could he do about it?

He pondered the problem a moment. Then a small smile played upon his lips as he looked down at his attire.

He knew exactly what he had to do.

Once he'd caught Molly's attention he made his move.

He confidently made his way over to her. He made sure to keep eye contact with her the whole time, making sure she read and understood his intention.

Once at her side he reached down and took hold of her hand. He then raised it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss upon it.

The dilation of her pupils and the gasp that escaped her lips were all the encouragement he needed.

With the slightest tilt of his head he indicated the need for them to find somewhere more private.

Molly smiled and nodded, and without so much as a backward glance she allowed him to whisk her away.

The masque ball was being held in the middle of an enormous hedge maze. Sherlock confidently led Molly through a dizzying number of twists and turns. Only when the noise of the party had finally faded away did he decide they were far enough away to ensure their privacy.

He quickly checked behind him to make absolutely certain that they wouldn't be disturbed. Then Sherlock turned back to Molly and with purpose pushed her up against the hedge wall.

Before he could kiss her, Molly had reached up and removed his hat. He momentarily froze before remembering his hair was currently straight, thanks to a generous amount of hair gel. He was also thankful for the black contact lenses he wore. For the moment he didn't want Molly to know who he was.

To be honest he was nervous. He was more than a little out of practice when it came to romantic encounters.

Best to see how things went before revealing his true identity.

When Molly made to remove his mask, Sherlock grabbed her hands, brushing kisses over her knuckles as he shook his head.

Molly pouted prettily, but she made no further attempt to remove it.

Relieved, Sherlock was now free to do what he'd wanted to do for a long time. He held her face in his gloved hands, leant down and kissed Molly on the lips.

As soon as his lips touched hers, Molly's lips parted. Soon their tongues were duelling for dominance.

Molly's fingers speared themselves into his hair, clutching and pulling, doing all she could to draw him in closer.

Sherlock reluctantly released her lips, but immediately began placing impassioned kisses over her cheeks, along her chin and down her throat.

When he reached her clavicle he couldn't resist sinking his teeth in gently before sucking noisily on the spot, knowing that it would leave a mark, albeit only temporarily, for all to see.

He grinned against her neck when he heard her moan.

Sherlock moved his lips over her shoulders, leaving a path of moist, wet kisses all the way down until he reached her exposed cleavage. His hands cupped her breasts, while his fingers brushed lightly over her hardening nipples.

When Molly moaned again, he not only heard it, he could feel the vibrations as he nuzzled his nose and lips between the giving flesh of her more than generous bosom.

Molly suddenly yanked him back up. Taking his face in her capable yet delicate hands, she pulled him back to her lips and he followed her silent command willingly.

He was just pressing his erect penis against Molly, rubbing urgently against her desperate for any friction to ease the increasing pressure when they were rudely interrupted by a group of teenagers, intent on causing mischief, if the flashes coming from their mobiles as they took photo after photo was anything to go by.

Molly buried her head against his chest, before she pulled away from him.

She turned back briefly, "Thank you for a lovely night," she said before turning and leaving.

221B BAKER STREET - THE PRESENT

The next afternoon found Sherlock sitting in his chair in his flat at Baker St. He was still pondering what to do about letting Molly know about the depth of his true feelings for her. When his mobile went off, alerting him that he's received a text.

It was from Mary Watson.

Sherlock, if you truly do love Molly, you need to get over to her flat right now,  
\- MW


	3. Part Three

MOLLY'S FLAT - THE PRESENT

Molly Hooper lay snuggled securely in the arms of Sherlock Holmes.

They lay reclined against the headboard of her bed.

Molly let out a contented sigh as she absent-mindedly trailed her fingers up and down Sherlock's arm.

Even though he held her close in a possessive and protective hold, she still couldn't get over the amazing fact that he had finally admitted to returning her feelings. It was all so surreal.

Molly tried to suppress a shiver as Sherlock nuzzled her sensitive earlobe. But when he nipped the delicate flesh gently with his teeth she gave a startled gasp, that turned into a moan as he soothed it with his talented tongue.

"So," Sherlock all but purred into her ear, his voice deliberately lowering to the level that always did strange things to her equilibrium. "How did I do?"

"D…do?" she stuttered.

Sherlock grinned with satisfaction. He was pleased to see that he still had that affect on her even after the hours of intimacy they had just shared.

He pulled her up so that she now sat astride his lap facing him.

"I believe you owe me your assessment on my level of bravery on revealing my feeling for you now that I have been unmasked," he clarified.

Molly leaned back slightly. Her expression becoming serious as she slowly moved her gaze over the dishevelled consulting detective.

And she really did love what she saw. The messy curls, the slumberous eyes now softened by passion, the morning stubble that grazed his upper lip, cheeks and chin. Her gaze then slipped down to his chest.

"Molly," Sherlock growled.

Molly grinned. She reached out to take his face in her hands, before leaning forward until their noses brushed against one another as she gazed adoringly into his eyes.

"You can't deduce my answer?" she asked playfully.

Sherlock manoeuvred her so that she now lay under him. "I could," he responded as he leant down to kiss her. "But I much prefer the practical approach."

After another round of passionate lovemaking Molly was more than willing to agree that she couldn't fault his logic.


End file.
